


Two broke bounty hunters

by Cherry_Red_Ink



Series: Darts and Blasters and Flamethrowers, oh my! [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Dromund Kaas, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:51:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry_Red_Ink/pseuds/Cherry_Red_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having to qualify for the melee, Mako and the hunter share some thoughts on Tarro Blood and what he can do to harm them, scratching the surface on their first night in Kaas City. Can be considered a spoiler for Dromund Kaas & Bounty Hunter story line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two broke bounty hunters

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the characters displayed in this piece of fiction. I am merely bowering them for the entertainment of my readers and myself with not profit other than (hopefully) personal pleasure in reading and writing being gained by all parties involved. If this piece of fiction is deemed offensive by the legal owners of Star Wars: The Old Republic, their legal representatives or the website administration it shall of course be removed with full apologies extended.
> 
> So what else does Tarro do to stop the competition other than sicking the Imperials on them and killing their team? How elaborate can those plans of his really be?

Their first night on Dromund Kaas sees them sharing a two-bed room provided by a cyborg with a knowing grin and a teasing “What did you do this time?” on his lips as they enter his little hostel. 

Mako lets her eyes sweep over the tiny reception area. There’s a large screen right behind the reception desk, showing a holo that contains several pictures (including shots of herself and the hunter), offering any innkeeper a ridiculous amount of credits for not servicing _or_ ridiculously overcharging them. Mako doesn’t even have to take a second glance at the numerical encoding at its bottom which is supposed to hide Tarro Blood’s hand in this. Speaking of hands, after the cyborg and the hunter do a complicated handshake-thing that ends with bumping fists he offers them a room at a discount of 75 per cent. Even so, Mako calculates that paying up front puts a sizeable dent into their sparse funds. The cyborg introduces himself as Careth and addresses the hunter as Shai’yera. It is the first time Mako hears her companion’s full name, but there is no time to contemplate it.

“You lasses want dinner?” Careth asks and makes a non-committal gesture. “I can holo Zel and let him know you’re planetside if you want. He’ll insist, you know.”

“And he’ll have what’s left of your precious hide if you don’t holo him to let him know I am, right?” the hunter says with a grin and an exaggerated sigh. “I’m not hungry. I just want to sleep and shower. Mako?” The slicer quickly shakes her head, knowing that any credits spent on frivolities _now_ will cost them dearly in the future. The innkeeper shrugs as if it was all the same to him. 

“Breakfast then. He’ll be delighted to catch up,” he says and slides two keycards across the counter. “Sleep tight, Shai. You too, Mistress Mako.”

Their room is small and almost barren: there are two beds, a single chair, two small cabinets standing side by side and a slightly ajar door behind which Mako can make out a miniscule refresher cubicle and a lavatory. No flowers, no pictures, no drapes pretending to cover non-existent windows. The lamps installed over each bed might as well be liberated of their metallic shades to complete the austere minimalistic feel of the bedroom. But it is also clean and neat; cleaner than a room at the cantina would be and much, much cheaper. Sheets and pillows are aligned with almost military precision. The first thing Mako does is to disturb the strict order that reminds her of the orphanage (and not in a good way) by throwing herself onto one bed and claiming it as hers. The hunter offers her a small smile and seats herself on the chair, starting to undo the clasps and bindings of her armor with practiced and efficient movements.

“You can take the fresher, you know. This is going to take a while,” she says. Mako tilts her head to the side.

They had been offered lodgings at the Mandalorian enclave, but Shai’yera had politely refused. Mako hadn’t understood but Crysta seemed to have. Their handler had given them a knowing look and an approving nod, wishing them a good hunt as they parted ways. They hadn’t even stopped at the cantina – instead, the hunter had dragged her to this out-of-the-way hostel in one of the less savory parts of Kaas City without so much as a word of explanation.

The memory of the holo blinking on the screen behind the reception desk rose to mind and Mako frowned. Had someone, maybe Crysta, tipped the hunter off? 

“You knew,” Mako finally says and it sounds only a little speculative. The hunter stops mid-motion. There’s no doubt what the slicer is asking.

“No, I didn’t. But I suspected,” she says truthfully and sets her flamethrower aside. Mako’s puzzled look prompts the hunter to elaborate. “Remember what Blood said on the holo? About how to stop a charging gundark?”

The hunter pauses and Mako searches her memory. “By… shooting his legs out from under him, right?”

“Right. Blood’s a coward, but he’s not dumb. The rules state that he cannot attack us outright until the hunt has started. We’ve made it to Dromund Kaas. We’re qualifying for the melee.”

“For which he’s rigged the bounties somehow and had us assigned a target that might not even be alive anymore,” Mako interjects, her tone acid. The hunter nods.

“Yeah, he did. But assigning us Altaca is still no guarantee. There are too many flaws in this plan, too many unknown variables so he can’t rely on the bounty alone, no matter how dangerous or obscure it is.”

“So?”

“Ressources. It’s the only option he has left without risking to be disqualified himself.”

“Ressources?” Mako perks up at the word. “What do you mean? You don’t mean…”

“He can’t stop us from finding shelter or buying ammo. But he can make it difficult or expensive for us. He’s going to do everything to ensure that we’re run dry. It’s what I’d do if I were in his position.”

The hunter shrugs and begins the task of removing her chest armor. Mako mulls her words over for a few long moments. How difficult could Tarro Blood make things for them? Could he drive them out of Kaas City all on his own? But then, he wasn’t alone when he went after Braden so maybe he isn’t working alone in this, either. The question of who would blindly support a Mandalorian is a no-brainer and the cyborg levels her gaze back to at the other woman.

“You suspect he has people working for him at the enclave?” she asks and her companion nods.

“Someone rigged the bounties, didn’t they? I doubt Blood did that himself. I doubt he does much of anything himself.”

“Gloating?” Mako offers.

“Point taken.”

They lapse into silence. Mako watches her companion struggle with a clasp – the last one, naturally – before getting up and silently assisting her. There are still things on her mind, questions she wants to ask about how they can prepare for Blood’s attempts of sabotage, but instead her mouth forms the words: “The innkeeper?”

“Careth? He’s – oww, watch the hair. He’s an… uncle of sorts. Zel, too. They used to work with my mother and – ouch! Mako!”

“I’m trying, but your hair keeps getting in the way!”

They fuss for a few moments when finally the clasp allows itself to be opened. A thick bushel of long crimson hair is stuck in it, intertwined with the two parts. The hunter makes a face at the sight but thanks her companion who has reseated herself and watches her progress in removing her boots.

“Do you think we stand a chance?”

The question is spoken quietly, yet both women feel its effect echoing around their small bedroom, sudden and unexpected like a thunderclap. Mako blushes, realizing it was she who asked.

“The odds are against us, I’ll give you that. But I’ve always worked best when the odds were against me. Listen, I know this is scary. There’s this big bad Mandalorian asshole that is hell-bent on winning this thing and he’s using every trick in the book to get rid of his competition. He’s got friends in high places, obviously, no scruples and undoubtedly a credit nerf hidden in his bedroom to finance this whole mess,” the hunter says and Mako has to suppress a grin at the thought of their adversary sifting nerf droppings for credits. “He thinks if he puts enough pressure on us by making this thing a big, scary, dangerous affair we’ll submit and withdraw. That’s the whole point of his game.”

“But we won’t be scared off, will we?”

“Course not. We owe this much to Braden and Jory. And we owe it to ourselves. Besides, I hate bullies and someone has to show this jerk face what happens if you don’t play nice with the other kids. I reckon it’s gonna be us.”

Mako laughs. “You talk as if we’ve already won.”

“We’ve got all we need, don’t we? Your brains, my trigger finger – we’re golden. Bounty hunting means to fight hard as much as it means to fight smart. Between the two of us, there’s nothing we can’t do. I know that and I suspect if Blood’s head wasn’t so firmly placed in his backside, he’d know that too.”

A beat of silence. 

“It’s a pretty firm backside.”

The two women share a look then dissolve into laughter. And just like that, the spell is broken. They shower and sleep, soundly. The next morning they leave the inn early to avoid breakfast with Careth and Zel, well-rested and in high-spirits ready to take on misplaced political prisoners, cowardly opposition and whatever else the universe will decide to throw at them just to keep them on their toes. 

Just two broke bounty hunters with the will to persevere and a mind to win.

But when they return to the enclave, delivering their republican noble in carbonite, Crysta’s words sent a chill down Mako’s spine. The attempted arrest at the Nexus Room is still fresh in her mind. 

“Hey there, hunter. Competition out there is something crazy. Couple of hunters died in the jungles. Big Trandoshan got arrested by the Imperials.”

A sideways glance – yes, they are thinking the same thing – and then it is back to business. Mako reminds herself that they won’t be scared off that easily.

Eventually, Tarro Blood will understand this, as well.


End file.
